


Always (With Brisket)

by T Verano (t_verano)



Series: December, This Time Around [9]
Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: 2015 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days prompt "Holiday Meal", Hanukkah Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2020-04-24 15:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19176430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: December with the guys a couple of years post-TSbyBS.Blair's finally made it to the cabin for his weekend with Jim.





	Always (With Brisket)

**Author's Note:**

> written for the 2015 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days prompt "Holiday Meal"

The cabin smelled like heaven.

"You realize that if you keep opening the oven like that, the brisket will take longer to get done?"

Jim grimaced and veered away from the stove, towards the counter.

"And if you have any more rugelach now, you won't be hungry for dinner."

Jim turned and glared at Blair. He couldn't hold the glare long, though, because Blair was _here._ Here, sitting on the sofa and nursing a mug of some kind of flowery-smelling tea he'd brought with him this morning.

Here, with _brisket._

"I could've just sent the brisket up on its own, couldn't I? And the two of you would've been totally happy together."

The teasing in Blair's voice drew Jim over to the sofa as involuntarily as the smell of the brisket had drawn him towards the oven. "Only if you sent the latkes along, too," he said, leaning over the back of the couch to murmur it into Blair's ear. "Can't forget the latkes."

Blair huffed a laugh. And shivered, just a little, and Jim let his fingers trace slowly up the line of Blair's jaw just so he could feel Blair shiver again. "Cold?" he said, still murmuring into Blair's ear, and was rewarded by the ragged breath Blair suddenly drew in.

"That depends. You planning on warming me up?" Blair's voice was low and bordering on husky, and maybe it was Jim's turn to shiver a little. 

"Always, Chief," he said, and he didn't have to put what he was really promising into words, thank Christ, because it was Blair, and by now Blair knew — knew most of the time, anyway — what Jim was saying even when he wasn't really saying it.

Thank Christ.

A gust of wind rattled the windows. The afternoon was closing in towards evening and the cabin was beginning to darken, making the light from the fire seem to glow more brightly every moment. The firelight danced off the glass icicle hanging in the nearest window and glinted on the copper and brass of the menorah Blair'd put on top of the chest beside the sofa, toyed with all the browns and coppers and reds in Blair's hair, deepened the blue of his eyes.

_Always._

Later, Blair would light the menorah and recite the blessings. Later still, they'd have Blair's Hanukkah brisket and latkes and whatever else he'd carted up from Cascade to make for dinner.

And by this time tomorrow afternoon, Blair would be getting ready to head back to the city. Fucking thirty-two hour 'weekend.'

But that was tomorrow. Today, now, Jim had his human icicle here to warm up. Even though Blair hadn't been shivering from the _cold._

"Always, Chief," Jim said again, abandoning the back of the couch to prowl towards Blair.

_Always._


End file.
